My Achilles
by VenusJay
Summary: One-shot story of Alexander and Hephaestion whilst in camp. Rated M for very adult content.


"Hephaestion," he whispers into my neck, though it sounds more of a strangled groan. Nothing in all of this world or the next could compare to this feeling. I gently push him away from me so that I can see his face in the dimly lit tent. The beautiful eyes I have known all these years hold the same intensity he is famed for. The same lust he seems to reserve for the throes of battle. Many know of his brutality; the twisted pulse of blood in his veins as his sword cuts through flesh and bone. Those close to him know of his kindness and his sympathetic heart that lies by his Achilles heel. I like to think I am one of the few who knows both at once.

For that is what Alexander is. He is both at once; in all things. Night and day, peace whilst remaining at war. That is how I have always known him.

He is growing impatient with me and rather sweetly tries to pull me towards the bed. He always underestimates me, you see. He sees me as too meek a force to have my way and so even in his submission, there is a raw and vulnerable power play.

"You will stay with me," he asks in a whisper, eyes imploring me even though he knows I would not leave him unless he asked. Nay, if he begged. It takes all of my self restraint to let him guide me gently to the bed that has been laid for him but those who built the tent at camp. There are fine furs to keep the chill of the desert air away and I see the flagon of wine laid out beside it has already been touched. His eyes watch mine as I look at it. I try not to seem disappointed but he seems to look away regardless.

With more force than he is expecting, I grasp a hold of his chin to make sure he is looking me in the eye. And then I kiss him. Strangely I have visions of a woman I once met in an Egyptian hareem and the tricks she had used in her kiss. I try to replicate them whilst trying to dampen the feeling of embarassment. It is easily quelled however by the expression I find on his face when I release him.

"What was that?"

"A kiss, Alexander," I murmur as I lean in once more. He is squirming beneath me, reaching up on his tiptoes in a womanly fashion given the height difference. His hands reach up to wrap around my neck and I take hold of his forearms to pull him towards me. It feels as free and desperate as our childhood wrestling.

'Would you rather I let you win,' I recall having said.

His hair is soft in my hands as I gently tug it to move him backwards towards the sheets. He falls back onto them and I slowly prowl after him. I find him to be so beautiful like this; his lips swollen and red and eyes glistening in anticipation. I feel the hairs on his arms raise as I stroke my tongue just below his ear.

"Oh by the gods, Hephaestion. If you keep doing that-"

I pull his top lip into my mouth and try to resist the urge to bite. That's what does it. Something stirs inside Alexander and he pushes me down to climb above me, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss. Every part of me is on fire when he straddles me, moving rythmically and breathing heavily.

"There is no one like you, Hephaestion, no one," he says and I smile. This is utter bliss. My heart gives a double beat when he begins to pull aside the chiton I wear. It feels so intimate to allow him this. My mind wandering through the Elysian fields as I feel his lips brush against my inner thigh. I recall a letter that noted the control they possess over Alexander and my laugh twists itself into a helpless moan as his tongue graces higher.

"Mm. Al-Alexander. You know I can't stand your teasing."

"And how must I stand it, to watch you each day? You know that is enough for me where you are concerned," he says with a wicked look in his eye. I feel his hands massaging at my hip bones and involuntarily I feel my muscles flex towards him. A delicious taste of the sensations yet to come. He leans down to kiss me, resting on his hands and pressing into the bedding. His strong arms rest either side of me and I can't resist pressing a sweet and chaste kiss to his forearm.

"My Achilles," I find myself saying as I look into eyes. They soften instantly and his features portray a sort of irreverance. I feel the change in his kiss. It is less hungry and yet more satisfying. His forehead rests against mine as he trails his hand down my chest. My breath quickens with his movements as he pleasures me. It is skillful but still biting enough to keep my sense alight.

"You're everything to me," he says and it is clear he cannot keep his desperation from ebbing into his voice. He gently kisses my forhead and I feel the cold in his absence as he reaches for some oil. It is strange feeling to lie so exposed and vulnerable but to feel safer than I do with any armour. My skin is sensitive to the soft fur and I languidly stretch out my muscles before allowing Alexander to kneel between my legs. I try to remember the last time we were together, knowing it will undoubtedly hurt. I can see that my love is anxious not to cause me pain but at this time I doubt very much I will care. I breath out as he pushes a finger in. It is slick with oil and isn't as uncomfrtable as I thought it might be. It feels like the longest time before I am able to tell him I am ready. I like to think I am a patient man but when it comes to this I have little to none. It does hurt as he presses into me but to have him so close; I cannot bring myself to still him.

At first his movements within me are bearable at most but after a few minutes I can barely remember who I am. The familiar feeling seeps through me, right down to my toes. I am panting and writhing like a common whore and I cannot even give thought to those who may hear us. The sound of Alexander's groans course through me until it pushes me over the edge. The room around me is a dizzying blur and my lover's voice sounds distant as he chuckles. I feel his clammy hands as they push my hair back from my face and the soft touch of his nose when he nuzzles into my neck. I am unbearably hot as he finishes inside me and I love him all the more when he takes a cold cloth to clean us both.

"How long has it been," he muses as he pulls me towards him in an intimate embrace. His fingers twist some strands of my hair and I rest my hand on his thigh. Dangerously close to temptation once more.

"Mmm. Too long," I reply sleepily. We say very little as the lamp burns lower, eventually leaving us to the darkness. I feel the light touch of his kiss on my neck as Hypnose drags me down into sleep.


End file.
